With a pin I prick your fingertip,
and watch in carnal pleasure.
As you rub the crimson on your lips,
my sight alone to treasure.
With a sigh you move your hands down low,
to the nipples on your breasts.
And with trepidation you move just so,
slight trembling in your chest.
Vermilion rivers on ivory skin
flow down your breasted valley,
on past your ribs and then within
your navel do they dally.
You coo at me to come and see
the pool that you did make.
And urge me on to feel free,
the drink is mine to take.
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